glacier hygiene

So there I am, on a glacier for the next twelve days. There are a lot of little things that one has questions about but are afraid to ask. Things like, how often do you change your underwear? How do you change out of contact lenses? How do you keep everything from freezing? Well there are little things that made it comfortable for me. The sacred socks were essential. That is a dry pair of socks to wear at night after I had soaked through the pair I was wearing all day. I was even more decadent and had a pair of sacred pants, that's right sacred pants. Pants that I would not wear for climbing or snowshoeing, but only for sleeping. Every night we went to sleep with EVERYTHING that needed to be dry and shouldn't freeze ... yes in the sleeping bag: sunblock, hand creme, toothpaste, contact lens solution, baby wipes, linings of the plastic boots, the wet socks I had already worn, the camera and batteries, the iPod (which should've been fully charged before I left town because the battery was empty the first night). For the next of skin of items, well I changed every three to four days, and the baby wipes were absolutely essential. Since water is precious and you can't actually wash your face or really want to get your hands wet, our instructors let us in on the teabag bath secret. Yeah, take the teabag you used for brewing the morning cup and wipe your face with it. Six straight days of slathering on SPF 70 sunblock six times a day gave me the complexion of a leprous zombie. It was suggested to me I take a 'teabag bath.' After doing a quick self portrait of myself with my digital and looking at the effect, I was aghast at my appearance. But otherwise, living on a glacier for 12 days was no sweat (except when we were shoveling and the ambient radiation of the sun reflecting off the glacier made it feel like we were in the Saharan desert while moving camp). What did I wish for? A way to call my mom (apparently old school cell phones can work once reaching certain peaks) and prescription glacier glasses for the days my eyes scream at me for putting in hard lenses.

enduring part II

Today is better. Mentally I'm accepting fate, physically my body is revolting. I got warm hugs and hellos and handshakes. I smiled at folks who barely changed or put on a few more pounds, or were paler than I last saw them, the healthier looking folks were beaming, and now I recall some of them were counting down days until they depart. Sometimes I wonder if I'm so mentally committed or even resigned to something that I distance from my true self. Like, when I started to heave the mostly liquid contents of my stomach, not even one kilometer from the airport terminal, and then once again when I left the shuttle on the circle to the apartment building that would be my home for the next four months. It was like my body was reacting to the indefiniteness of not being able to board a plane back home for another few months, and reacting again at the doorstep of my keep until then.

how to endure

One moment I was looking at the skyline of Manhattan, under the cover of evening clouds with sunbeams filtering here and there, thirteen hours later, I was pointing out to my seat mate the Dead Sea lapping at the West Bank. I already began putting count down numbers in my planner, this time I wasn't going to cross calendar years like before. My sister's birthday marks exactly the half way point. I miss my sister. Another four months, of me not being me. Of letting go of things I started towards in the last four, that felt like in their intensity zapped my time to a matter of four week, my first lead on ice, first leads on Gunks classics, my first time on a glacier, my first time camping for more than a week, my first time in Washington and Alaska, climbing in an ice park, my new car's first oil change, the first opera that I can clearly remember. I had things to look forward to here, longer dryer days, friends from before, possibly more outings. Possibly more interesting work. I knew my heart was divested before, but in the short time I had home, I managed to reinvest in those other ways to pass time, that have nothing to do with living in foreign country among expats, or sitting at a desk for over ten hours on most days. I sobbed in the apartment that I felt like I barely left. This time there were iron bars over all the windows. That sounds too dramatic, at least they had keys for opening their built in doors.

throwing it out

I'm looking at the left hand column of this blog and seeing how in 2005 I wrote a whopping 320+ posts that year. The blog was a nice way for me to indulge literary narcissism, trying to draw anyone on the net into the what I wanted them to think I was thinking about at 11:35 AM on October 21, 2005. Maybe someone read between the lines and guess at what I was thinking about. Maybe. Now I'm looking back at why I started this blog, it was fad-ish perhaps? All my friends were doing it? I hadn't discovered Facebook yet? I was trying to track my own thoughts?

Since I was maybe 11 I was predisposed to writing in diaries but I would divulge everything in them. I had 11 or so rainbow-colored (by my own hand) composition books filled with doodles and pre-adolescent narratives. Eventually to make room for high school yearbooks, I destroyed them ... maybe or they're somewhere in my closet. Now I look at where I am to where I was five months ago when I was living the D.C. dream: luxury loft downtown, a luxury German sports coupe in an underground garage below, six-figure earnings, and a career with seeming limitless potential. I was on the verge. Of what? I was also a weekend warrior, I spent an uncalculated amount on motel rooms, plane tickets, and gas during the winter season traveling to New England to ice climb. I even booked a trip to the north to climb frozen waterfalls the night after a man I was dating flew from the other side of the country to see me. Now, the luxury loft is rented to a very nice fellow bureaucrat, the bimmer is parked in a neighborhood where it's sale price is easily more than half the value of the homes around it, my Italian wool suits are crammed into a closet and the only things neatly organized in labeled boxes and bags are my climbing gear and DVD's. Some of my clothes are in heaps in the unfurnished room I occupied from when I was 13 to 24.

As the last month rolled in my overseas assignment, I was booking trips. A week in Ouray, Colorado, a weekend in Looking Glass, NC at the end of March, two weeks in the Alaska range, five days in the high peaks of the Adirondacks. Possibly a weekend in the Cascades. When I actually came home, I planned another week in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, and I stayed in Washington state for two weeks. I told people I was living out of the trunk of my car. Any given moment I had ropes, a harness, and climbing shoes in my trunk with shower stuff in my Adidas duffel and a garment bag hanging from the back seat with a few dry-cleanables. I was never ever really unpacked. My various pieces of luggage were 'rolling,' the duffel went from ice trips to work trips to a mountaineering trip. My little black executive carry-on was stuffed with silk blouses, gold sandals, icebreaker t-shirts. Meanwhile my large expandable over-sized orange four-wheel roller sat stoically pushed against the closet and the ironing board, empty, waiting to be filled for another four month tour.

my gear reveiw guide

I'm getting psyched to back in the States and pursue my non-career non-international affairs passion. Climbing. Whether you care or not, and I'm no one famous, but if you are a slendar 5'9 woman trying to figure out what gear you like, I'm putting down my personal faves and things I can't live without:

Women's Patagonia R2 vest - without a doubt, my favorite essential layering piece. Wear it around town or for just a little extra warmth over an expedition layer on a warm (27 F) sunny ice climbing day. Has pockets to vent, furry, great shape.

Women's Icebreaker Expedition Hoody - awesome, it's 100% Merino wool, has thumb holes for extra warmth, an adjustable hood that fits over and under helmets. I use it for everything from running errands around town, a light jacket on cool spring evenings, to an essential layering piece on a cold day of mountaineering. Also has a great shape. For 2009 they've changed it a bit, you can check out the link.

Women's Outdoor Research Aria Down Hoody - great mid/outer layer down sweater for cooler days and belaying/ice climbing on the sunny side. Fits nice over all of the above, and stylish.

Women's Arcteryx Beta AR Gore-tex Pro-shell - built for climbing, tough fabric is shred resistent, I use it on all my ice climbing ascents. I have long monkey arms so I wish when I raised my arms it would not go down as far, but thankfully I have really awesome longish Black Diamond Samurai ice climbing gloves (in small for my woman hands).

Women's Mountain Hardware Subzero Parka - I have it in pink, although often mistaken for a 'bar jacket' because of its great looks, I've proved its awesome performance in keeping me warm on descents in the winter off of Mt. Katahdin in Maine and ice climbing in super cold conditions in the Adirondacks. Hood designed to fit over a climbing helmet. Even my male climbing partners have warmed themselves in this jacket when they left their's back in the car. Fits over all the above mentioned layers.

Men's (they don't have my size in women's) La Sportiva Nepal EVO's GTX - I'm just another fan ... great boot for ice climbing and mountain approaches. Keeps my feet warm without warmers down to 20 degrees. Below that, I stick in warmers. I have a narrow heel, and even though it is a men's boot, it still accomodates my flatish- low- volume feet.

Cold Cold World Chernobyl Pack - the must have piece of gear. I gotta say, I have a huge internal frame Gregory that I've only used on two expeditions (the Palisades), but after getting the Chernobyl, I left the bulkier Palisades at home. This pack is great for the summer to haul a 60m rope, double rack, and all your personal gear, snacks and water. During the winter, it carries my crampons, ice tools, warm clothes, thermos with hot drinks, snacks and more without a hitch. I used it on a January overnight ascent of Mt. Marcy, and the frameless pack served as a perfect lower-body bivy sack over my sleeping bag in a lean-to shelter (one where we woke up the next morning with a dusting of snow between each of us).

Mammut Schoeller Softshell Castor Trouser - um, these pants are hot, meaning they make my butt look pretty good in 'em. I basically threw my gore-tex shell pants into the bottom of my pack as a back-up after I bought these. A little pricey, but well worth it, extremely durable, warm, vented pockets, internal gaiters, breathes awesomely so I never feel like I'm too warm or too cold, water resistant, and importantly, shred resistant from clumsy footed-ness in crampons. Even my guy climbing partners have wondered if they have something similar for men.

looking back at '09

We make resolutions, and some of us the same ones ... save money, lose weight, exercise more. I feel like I just roll my resolutions over. Last year it was go on a mountaineering adventure and finish graduate school. And the latter was a resolution I had from 2007. Well what did I do that was new in 2008? Here they go:



1. Did my first gully climb, in New Hampshire

2. Did my first winter alpine ascent, on Mt. Katahdin, Maine (unfortunately this did not meet my threshold for a mountaineering adventure as my other requirement for it was to be at altitude)

3. Bought a sports car, a very expensive sports car

4. Lived in another Middle Eastern country, but not one in a war

5. Took my first trad leader fall on Laurel at the Gunks (red C3 caught me but also took up my precious handhold for the crux move)

6. Finished my graduate degree

7. Passed the bloody GWU Arabic assessment after 9 weeks of language study hell at Middlebury

8. Climbed the longest single technical route in a day ... 800+ feet, swapping leads on the Standard Route, White Horse Ledges, New Hampshire

9. Hiked up the tallest peak in NY and didn't even see it (spectacles iced over on Mt. Marcy)

10. Shot a long gun, repeatedly for days

11. Learned to give someone intravenous fluid, and actually prepped and poked someone to achieve said I.V.

12. Lived with my cat for over six months since college, until my sister cat-napped him

13. Bought a blackberry, giving up living with a laptop or internet service

14. Went to Jerusalem, somehow remembered the opening chapter of the Quran, thus proving I was Muslim and able to enter the Dome of the Rock and the interiors of the two mosques

Salt of the Sea

I seriously think the long hours of work staring and focusing deeply into the minutiae of getting the job done has made me forget a lot. I don't think I can even speak intelligently any more about things I learned in high school, college, or that graduate degree I barely finished. Being in Amman has taken me back to the things I did before working full time and studying part time. Movies and martial arts.

Tonight I went to the Palestinian Film Festival in Jordan's pre-eminent arts center. It was the closing night and they showcased "Salt of the Sea." The auditorium was crammed with people sitting on the stairs of the main exits rows and a photographer occasionally blinding theater-goers with the flash of his camera. A few times, a theater patron would take pictures of the screen, I wondered if that even works given one would think the flash would white out the projection.

Anyhow it was a really good film that brought up a lot of questions. Soraya (played by Suheir Hammad-of def jam fame) born in the United States goes back to Palestine to reclaim her "right" of return. Territory, righteousness, dreams, and humiliation are specters in this film. Believing to do what is right she ultimately defeats her own goals. Probably one of the things, maybe because I'm old and narrow minded, struck out in my mind was how she meets a man she cares for who wants nothing more than to leave the occupied territories. He wants to go to Canada but his exit visa keeps getting rejected. She holds a U.S. passport and wishes most of all to get a Palestinian passport. Can they co-exist? She can enable his dreams or make them worse for the sake of her own, which are grounded in the two generations of her past. Does reclaiming land, really heal someone? And what is exactly a home? Is it a house one's grandparents built, or is it the people one finds along the way that make the passing of time a joy? Salt is a foreign film submission for this year's Academy Awards.

welcome the United States of America

So I can't help but do a pseudo political post. When I saw, read, digested that Barak Obama was the President-elect, I was really relieved. Not because I'm a Democrat, but it finally proved that the leader of the free world had progressed to stand among its peers to choose intellect, courage, and youth. That finally American progress was evident in the highest post of leadership and that the frightening unspoken undercurrents of bigotry in American society were not the force they once were. That the jaded cynic in me and others were proved utterly and completely wrong, very gladly.

the battle was lost ... but what of the war?

Afghanistan? Iraq? The presidential debates? No. My commitment to have a life outside international affairs. Even my last two blog posts were about international affairs or its pursuit. I think I have become what I dreaded ... A person without a life outside her career. But is there still hope? Let's hope and stay tuned. Hopefully dispatches outside the international affairs realm but with a decidedly foreign flavor will be coming ...

حقيقة

I'm realizing I'm a city girl. I'm in Vermont for the summer, suffering, but really I'm not. I get three square meals provided each day (and then some--possibly some of the best dairy products in the country), am fortunate enough to have an A/C unit on the rare hot days, and am in a beautiful valley surrounded by misty green mountains as far as the eye can see in every direction.



I'm learning Arabic, in fact I'm sort of breaking the language pledge by writing in this blog. I'm bad, but I'm half way through almost no? Hopefully they won't kick me out for this infraction. Although I think I'm just becoming more dangerous with Arabic, my English is probably getting worse, so excuse the typing lapses.



I'm realizing I'm a country girl too, I can be in the country in a class for six hours look at said beautiful mountain ranges while knowing I have a rope and a full rack in my dorm and a car that loves to be driven. I've only been climbing once outside since I've been here, even though one of my favorite places in the world, the Adirondacks, is in my view to the west. Truly torture, truly the hardest thing I've done in my life. Truly دراسة اللغة العربية اصعب شي في هياتي.

bhutto

Nobody ever wants to criticze the dead, but the title links to a good op-ed. Westerners on a cursory study of South Asian politics grasp what they percieve as the oxymoron of a forward leading culture that puts women at the forefront of leadership, despite strong veins of traditional Islam. However, whether it was Indira Ghandi, Sheikh Hasina, or Khaleda Zia, and now Bhutto, it is not about progressive female leadership, but continuing and preserving dynasties.

23 year old playwriters

What would they write about, especially if they were a contemporary of Shakespeare? A few weeks ago, I found out exactly what they would write about. Marlowe's Tamburlaine showcased as the first play performed in the Washington's Shakespeare Theater Company's brand new space, the Harman theater.

The production was wonderful, and quite a feat, because the story follows a shepherd become Emperor and most of the scenes are his acts of conquering and plundering. The story though, mostly about a brutish warrior, who's company men do terrible things to those who plead not be annhilated (not surrender, they figure he'll overrun them-but just wanted to be spared the burning, pillaging, raping and killing), is something that one might imagine may come from the imagination of a hot-headed twenty-young year old playwright. Interesting to watch anyway, but not as engaging as Shakespeare's classic and complex works. Which makes me the think the bard was never one person anyway.

photographs

Make me indescribably happy. I can't explain the immense the feeling of satisfaction and well-being I get after looking at photographs, particularly of recent ones of my friends. Its like being there after the fact, at least for the highlights.

what did i do that was new in '07?

1. Shot a pistol ... very successfully (targets not people)

2. Learned to drive from the passenger side while supressing a 300 lb cop

3. Flew in a Blackhawk

4. Lived in a warzone, came back with PTSD from said warzone

5. Got back on a horse after my Bermuda accident, around the pyramids, of all places, yes Giza

6. Mumbled my way through an Arabic-speaking country

7. Learned to ice climb, then spent thousands of dollars on said equipment

8. Pulled a roof on trad lead!

9. Caught four trad leader falls, of guys much bigger than me (I wish it came with lifetime beer subscription)

10. Got my haircut in Paris ;)

11. Thinking my outdoor footwear had to be the most expensive, outdid it by buying a pair of beautiful Dior pumps in Paris

12. Went flying off into the white abyss on Mt. Whistler, British Columbia while skiing

13. For three months, had beautifully pedicured feet and manicured hands (couldn't climb in B-dad!)

14. went to London AGAIN without visiting Ireland or Scotland

retrospect 2007

I sometimes go back and read what I wrote in prior times, so here was a list I made about a year and a half ago. I took out the stuff I already did (hence missing number) and things I don't really care about or were associated with things I did in a previous like (like taekwondo).

things i've never done (and may never do)

2. Cheated on someone
3. Scuba dived
4. Smoked marijuana
3. Killed someone
4. Went Caving
5. Taken any illegal drug that had no age restrictions
6. Driven a motorcycle
7. Swam a lap

9. Played drums
10. Left the DC metro area for another place to live (3 months in Baghdad!)
11. Travelled 4 times to the UK and went to Scotland or Ireland
12. Skied a Black Diamond


15. Owned a dog
16. not talked to my mom for a week
17. talked to my dad continuously for a week
18. gotten married
19. had kids
20. owned a sports car
21. Been to Amsterdam, Luxembourg, or Monaco
22. acted in a widely distributed film
23. hang-glided
24. landed a single propeller engine airplane

26. gotten into a street fight has dramatically changed
27. stood up a date
28. faked liking a boy

30. saw the 'drag races' in Dupont
31. driven a car on a race track
32. Sailed a boat on my own
33. ice skated without falling
34. gone to the Phillips collection
35. Been to Washington state
36. painted a room all by myself
37. held a spider
38. been to Eastern Europe
39. defended a dissertation

41. Had surgery

44. fallen for a South Asian man
45. not had a boyfriend who wasn't some part Anglo-Saxon
46. voted Republican
47. Voted before 2004
48. gone to Fur
49. tolerated cigarette smoking very well

why i hate facebook

1. Too many people think this is a good and fast way to communicate with friends, despite already having e-mail or mobile contact info
2. Your relatives can post unflattering pics of you and the schmuck you dumped two days ago can use it as ammunition to make himself feel better
3. Bloody apps! Bloody apps! I don't want no freakin' apps!
4. The funwall makes it possible to bring about the re-emergence of that which is hated of all things: the chain-mail, without the consequences of the spam blocker
5. You always get notices some message is waiting for you on facebook, but then you can't login to check it because the server is too damn busy
6. Its banned at work
7. Your younger cousins who look up to you can see pics your friends posted of you in interesting situations
8. People believe they have real friends because they can count their numbers on a website
9. People drop big news like changes in relationship status on their facebook profile pages
10. Its killin' the romance ;)

new obsessions

Have begun this year, which will make the whole 'saving money' New Year's resolution a little difficult. It started with a introduction to ice climbing in January with members of the Potomac Mountain Club (also known as the Mountaineering chapter of the Potomac Appalachian Trail Club). A couple weekends later I made a long drive with two firefighters on MLK day weekend for two days of trying to be as graceful as our guides while ascending ice water falls. Knowing I was in for some fat paychecks with my upcoming deployment, I spent ridiculous amounts of money for what people were told me were the 'top-of the line' in personal ice climbing equipment. I took these fresh out of the package tools and boots up with me to Whistler, British Columbia in March, hoping for late-season ice, but alas it rained, and much had come down. So it wouldn't be until next year.

Although I had my obsession from the previous year, trad rock climbing to get me out of city and chasing up rocky pillars while D.C.'s prolongued summer (practically into November) to keep me occupied, I confess, when in October the weatherman warned of the first frost, that night I went to sleep and dreamt of ice.

In fact earlier this month, I was in Hawaii for a work trip (rough I know), after hearing my sister abandoned housesitting for me and left my cat alone, plus the phone call to hear it was snowing, I dreamt again that night of ice (of ice covering Carderock of all things!) and booked my plane ticket home early. Of course I was being silly both those times.

This past weekend I booked a trip to the Adirondacks to introduce my sister to ice climbing with help from guides. What should have been a nine hour drive, turned into a 12 hour drive. Sunday was practically balmy at the crag, and my new tools and new crampons went into the ice like a knife into room-temperature butter. By the afternoon, we a had a steady light drizzle and one of our next climbs, involved a few 'mixed' moves (on rock and moss). My gore-tex shells were completely wet (thankfully keeping me very dry). After a moment of contemplating the ice, a bit slushy, under the 3mm deep waterfall, I plunged up and ahead. We were all ready for some dry clothes, a warm room, blanket, and a mug of a hot drink and quickly bailed off that first pitch. My sister did not want another watery escapade the next day so we cancelled the second day with a promise to be back after the New Year. I almost went back this weekend but with the forecast still warm for the north country, I stuck it out here.

taming women

Having seen Kiss Me Kate, both the movie and the musical performed on stage, I was ill-prepared for the un-watered down Shakespeare Theater Company's "the Taming of the Shrew." I was sitting with three other women, all of us (or at least most of us) self-proclaimed feminists and we often looked aghastly at each other at the rather physical 'courtship' scenes between Petruchio and Katherina. And let's not get into her monologue. In any case, before I walked into the theater, I wish I had read director Rebecca Bayla Taichman's comments, namely

"Instead of ironing out the play’s contradictions, I want to open and stretch them out. Kate and Petruchio truly love each other, and yet Petruchio may really have damaged Kate. He can save her while also stealing something sacred from her ... And Kate can mean what she says in that gorgeous and very complicated speech, while also being bitterly aware of how she is performing a male fantasy for a patriarchal world."

"The play should make you swoon and want to scream with rage. It should make you uncomfortable and impossibly entertained. It should make you ask questions about what marriage is, about how we love each other, how we collude to create an economy of love and a marriage market. It should make you question how we often prize financial reward and stellar reputation over deep human connection, and why we desire power. "

In the end, it makes me wonder about how much people expect to be changed and change their loved ones. Maybe I've always kept the philosophy those that are meant for us, understand us and love us for who we are, and not what they have made us become ... and one can't change unless they themselves really want to.

an idea for our cabbies

In the 3+ years I've lived in this city and taken a cab just so I could avoid losing a precious parking spot on the street, I've heard cab drivers increase the fare by a dollar twice. When confronted by my accusation they're trying to rip me off again, they usually cite high gas prices. Recently D.C. cabbies were considering strikes to protest the decision to go to a fare system. Maybe, if gas prices are such an issue, they should replace their old Marquis and Buicks with a car that guzzles less gas. Like they are doing in N.Y.

M5

Not the car but the band. What a great rocker Adam Levine of Maroon 5 is. My sister and I had the pleasure of seeing the hybrid pop/rock/R&B band perform at the Verizon center. The arena was packed ... mostly with women I was sure. We were seated next to a young boy and his father ... we saw many parents with the their children. Levine tried to get D.C. to sing, and clap, but we are a lazy audience indeed. But its cute to see how the 'cigarette-lighter-song' has become more eco-health friendly with the 'cell-phone illuminated glow song.' D.C. responded well to Levine's declaration of love for its denizens. An hour and 15 minute show, done by 10:30 PM, ensured most of the teenagers in the crowd were home and not too sleep deprived for school the next morning.

i'm back

Coming home from Iraq is a strange thing. My employer had given me at least three copies of pamphlets describing expectations when coming home, from feeling depression, to feeling anxiety, etc. We even had a powerpoint lecture on it. I was not really prepared for what I felt when I came back. I wanted to return to Baghdad! I felt a little bit like Jack on the season finale of Lost, although not that desparate. For a while I moped to my best friends how much I disliked D.C. and how I wanted to move somewhere else. I didn't bother having any welcome back festivities, but naturally friends of mine figured out I was home and would coax me out. I continued with work, but more of a miser than usual. I considered a long-distance relationship, which was completely out of the ordinary for me. But thankfully, soon realized (well after about almost three months), that I missed living in D.C., and I was glad and happy with my life. Woohoo! Now to only see how Chopingal is ...

crazy but not insane

The blog is becoming re-active (but we'll see how long this lasts). Mostly because I'm enroute to Baghdad for work so now while in Baghdad I will do my best not to write about work.

Right now I'm too exhausted to be excited or nervous about working in Baghdad. I know I'm definitley looking forward to it. When a lot of my family and friends heard that I was going to work there they immediatley assumed that my work was forcing me to go, when in fact I volunteered. I guess its hard to get people to see I'm not crazy for volunteering. When the U.S. first started talking about the war, I was completely against it. I didn't believe Gen. Powell's testimony to the U.N. and I didn't think the evidence for the case Saddam having WMD was strong, in fact I thought it was very weak. Now that the U.S. is completely embroiled in Iraq, and it really is the top foreign policy issue for the U.S., and since I've always had an interest in the Middle East and U.S. foreign policy, it is a pretty natural career choice. Also, although this war is a mess made by people I disagreed with, I do believe this is a mess the U.S. has to take responsiblity for and although I may not be the smartest person or someone who can fix this problem, rather that waiting in the sidelines and complaining about it, I am taking the opportunity to do something about it. I have friends in the military who are serving in the front lines and this war has taken an enormous toll on their lives and their loved ones (some people say ... aren't they volunteer? but come on, given the choice to go to war or go to jail is really not about volunteering). The orphans, widows, and emotionally and physically impaired survivors of this war on both sides is heartbreaking. I've always been drawn to helping others, and I wouldn't be going if I thought the danger was so high, but I'm confident my heart is in the right place. I may not be able to accomplish peace in three months, but I hope I can influence even in a minute way to keep things from becoming its absolute worse.

'First Ascent' trailer

FIRST ASCENT DVDs on sale now at www.senderfilms.com First Ascent, the highly acclaimed new film from Peter Mortimer and Sender Films, is now for sale on DVD. In his follow up to the award-winning Return2Sender, Mortimer has created a movie about the legendary routes that have never been climbed – and the dirt bag heroes that climb them. First Ascent is a global romp with climbing’s modern-day pioneers, from the sea cliffs in Thailand to the high Himalayas, and from the scary depths of the Black Canyon to the buildings of Hollywood. Big laughs, huge falls, hopes, fears and truly radical feats.

catching up on July

Mt. Whitney Trip Report:

(Originally written Monday, July 31st, 2006)

I am exhausted! Have you ever found your feet swelling after returning from altitude? I don't know if its from the trauma of hopping 6,000 feet of boulders in 4 miles or if its all the bloat-y drainage from being at altitude settling into my feet.

It was awesome. The Whitney area is super beautiful. We had some unexpected weather, lightning and thunderstorms every afternoon around 2 PM, which ruined many of our more ambitious plans. Saturday we camped at 8,000 feet and all of us did pretty well. Sunday our goal was to hike to Iceberg lake somewhere around 12,600 feet but we were slower moving than expected. My pack was the lightest at 59 lbs whereas our leader got the prize for the heaviest at nearly 80 lbs (although you'll have to check with him). Around 3 PMish after leaving Lower Boy Scout lake which I think was somewhere between 9 and 10,000 feet we encountered rain and lightning storms so we ended up camping at Upper Boy Scout Lake, which is about 10,300 feet I think. Monday we decided to summit Mt. Russell, but due to some route finding issues we didn't find the Eastern pass until the afternoon. Just like clockwork, at 2 PM thunderheads rolled in and we scree-skied back to Upper Boy Scout Lake. Tuesday we decided to be more chill, wake up at a luxurious hour and the hike to Iceberg Lake at 12,600 feet. That was the toughest hike as it was mostly scree and talus fields with a few places slick from the glaciers melting (and getting around some glaciers).

Once at Iceberg we had an awesome view of Mt. Whitney, the minor peaks and the climbing routes. We got some beta from climbers coming off the Mountaineer's Route, East Buttress and East Face. Thankfully, there were quite a few who told us how to get around the snow coming down the Mountaineer's Route. Wednesday we would be the only ones climbing East Face. The two Erics were team one to go first on the East Face with Reed, Ross, and myself following. Wednesday we hiked up the talus field about 600 feet to the start of the East Face climb. The first pitch was airy! Talk about a crazy drop off. We also found out a Whitney 5.6 chimney was not as easy as we thought it would be on the first pitch with sparse protection. The Erics (Bosch and Richardson) pretty much flew up the first six pitches. By the time our three person team had gotten to pitch number 6 right before the Fresh Air Traverse, the Erics we re on pitch 10, three pitches shy of the 3rd class scramble to the summit. Then what we had prayed and hoped would not happen, we saw the clouds, lightning, and unfortunately a full out hail storm. The Erics hunkered down and had somehow gotten off route, while Ross, Reed and I made the decision to rappel and down climb back the way we came. We had about four rapels down and Reed lead the down climb which was part of pitch 1, which was on the more difficult ones, but since we knew the route from before it was pretty fast. Unfortunatley night came too soon and our last rappel was in the dark, trying to stay as close to a corner because any movement to the left would mean a huge swing and an even more difficult time getting back on route. We then scrambled down to base camp where the Erics were waiting for us with hot drinks and burritos. The Erics summitted around 5 PM and took the Mountaineers route down arriving at camp at 6:30 P M, only to see our three headlamps after dark making our way down the first pitch and approach. What an adventure :0!

Thursday we took it easy, recovered, while Ross summitted via Mountaineers Route. At 1:30 Eric and I set off from camp with the other three following for the parking lot, 4,000 feet below us through scree and talus fields. We made it back to our vehicle around 8:30 PM, went to the Mt. Whitney Restaurant for beer and hearty food and spent the night at the Mt. Whitney Motel in Lone Pine. Friday we were still pretty much in recovery, went to the Lone Pine Cafe for breakfast and then went to see the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest, which was pretty neat. We stayed in Lancaster that night and Saturday morning, prior to their departure, went to Santa Monica beach.

We were all okay! I would definitley do it again, but this time with more trad leading experience under my belt. The prophylactic Ibuprofen went over really well. My only problems were allergies from the meadows blooming at altitude and in general I was moving slower than usual. Thank you for e-mailing me to see how things went.

world's shortest personality test

Your Personality Profile

You are elegant, withdrawn, and brilliant.Your mind is a weapon, able to solve any puzzle.You are also great at poking holes in arguments and common beliefs. For you, comfort and calm are very important.You tend to thrive on your own and shrug off most affection.You prefer to protect your emotions and stay strong.

The World's Shortest Personality Test

alive

A snapshot of my Whitney attempt, do you see me behaving much like a yellow-bellied California marmot?

Actually I got further on Whitney than that, this was the day after. Story to come.

quiet but not lazy

Yar, so its been a month since I've posted. Yes its been hectic, depite being done temporarily with school. I've been going twice a week to a physical therapist for my right ankle and had a smattering of orthopedist visits. I didn't write because I was afraid I would jinx myself. I decided to pursue the physical therapy intensely in hopes of being prepared to attempt my first alpine rockclimbing trip, summit Mt. Whitney, the tallest mountain in the lower 48 states. My first visit to the orthopedist and physical therapist were not very hopeful. A week later, out of a 'moon boot' aka pump leg cast and some recoil therapy, both therapist and orthopedist were certain I could hike 4,000 feet in elevation gain and summit Mt. Whitney via 5th class (rockclimbing steep) routes. My therapist allowed me to do some moderate hikes and climb indoors. By fourth of July, I was was able to climb outside and spent a day at Seneca. And next, 4th of July pictures!

seneca crag log 4th of July weekend

Saturday evening myself and another climber headed to Seneca Rocks in West Virginia. When we arrived in town, we found plenty of climbers but not the 13-20 person group we were looking for. Note to self: always print the e-mail confirming the campsite! Luckily, we spotted the trip leader coming into town and he showed us the way. The next morning I found myself a trad leader and we went up Green Wall (5.7) in three pitches. The second pitch was pretty sweet, a crack for protection and a narrow face that kept giving back the slight overhangs. Summiting the south peak, I practiced making anchors and placing gear. After lunch, I lead Old Ladies Route (5.2), probably the easiest way to get to the East summit. The third pitch was hairy, the climb was easy but it was along a chimney with very few spots for placing gear. The entire pitch I probably placed only three pieces of pro so it felt like free climbing. Thankfully it was not as windy as the first time I went to Seneca.

demographics

NPR's blog alerted me to this interesting feature, tells you what the demographics of the consumer of a product and even readership of a website.

They have me pegged a bit wrong for my car, a Toyota Echo, right on the female, wrong on the 35-49 age group.

Now if you read my blog you are most likely male and younger than 18 years old, true???? Apparently I'm not familiar with all my readers.

the muslim invasion

Because its a hot-topic, I found The Economist wrote some pretty thoughtful articles on it:

Tales from Eurabia & Look Out Europe They Say

Even today in conferences sponsored by academics and practitioners I find people saying some pretty awful, unknowledgable things about Islam and its interactions with the West. If you don't already know, I'm pretty opposed to Huntingon's Clash of Civilizations, only because Islam, Christianity, and Judaism really come from the same civilization; which kills his entire argument. But here I am trying not to get carried away by an issue too close to my studies, my work, and my heart on a blog where I made a promise to show how it is not consuming my life. I am interested in your thoughts though.

lovely bones

History: Trauma

Findings: No evidence of fracture or dislocation. Chronic avulsion injury at right lateral malleolus.
For the aspiring radiologists.

pearl jam

I should've could've but didn't post on the awesome experience of finally living to see my biggest adolescent wish, and that is a pearl jam concert. Once I was thwarted and too ill and 120 miles away from said concert, but this time, I strolled to Chinatown, had a drink and some lamb lollipops at Indebleu before walking across the street to see my ultimate high school crush (the size of a sideways paperclip no less from our nosebleed seats), Eddie Vedder. Wow. The voice is still as velvet as ever, and his charisma and charm still managed to radiate across 10 times the number of the alphabet in Verizon center seating to make me fall in love all over again.

DCist did a pretty good review.

crag log, red rocks Nevada (Vegas baby!)

After resting Sunday from the adventures in Utah, Sunday I met up with a guide from Jackson Hole Mountaineering Guides. Three years ago, I came to Vegas with girlfriends and we did the usual: gambled, partied, saw a Cirque du Soleil show, drank, danced, saw the Hoover dam, and then the not so typical: sky-dived and took a hike into Bureau of Land Management's (aka Bureau of Livestock and Mining) Red Rock Canyon and I found myself drooling at the climbing routes in the beautiful red sandstone of Vegas's best-kept secret. Being impaired with a tender ankle, my guide and I forgoed Froglands which had the more strenuous approach and aimed for Dark Shadows, a four-pitch 5.8 which we did in three pitches, the last being the shortest. Super fun, the rock was super slick, steep, and black looking but the fissures provided some of the best crack-climbing ever. After rapelling one pitch, my guide let me have a go at Slot Machine (5.10c) which I got up only half way with a lot of help. We lowered down one more pitch where I climbed another sweet crack, a 5.9/5.8 who's name I've forgotten.

mem day wknd relaxation

Beat up from Orderville Canyon and the Narrows we took it easy on Saturday, found and established our campsite and rode on the Zion Park shuttle hopping off for a hike here and there. One of the highlights was Angel's landing. Super fun, the last 1/2 mile was scrambling up a narrow exposed fin up to a summit with incredible views of the valleys that converge into Zion. Unfortunatley the down hike once again tenderized my ankle.

mem day weekend on insanity

After retrieving newly washed climbing clothes from the dryer, I repacked my backpack to fly to Vegas. The gambling, shows, bling ... not so much ... been there done that, it was for a different experience. A return to Zion (National Park that is). It was blazin' hot when we arrived, after stopping by the gear rental shop we were informed our intended two-day canyoneering/backpacking route, the Zion Narrows, was closed due to high water levels. We resorted to plan B, Orderville, a technical/slot canyon. Renting wet suits for the anticipated chilly mountain run-off streams and pools we took a long bumpy ride to the plateu-y wilderness and hiked into the valley. Totally idiotic hiking into the desert wearing wet suits. We encountered a bit of a stream at first but it dried up and we encountered the carcasses of two deer. According to the park ranger, we were the first to receive a backcountry permit for Orderville this season and we ought to be prepared for the unexpected. Soon we were in the hallowed red Navajo sandstone canyons, carved layered and fluid by various water flows, but no water in sight. Half way through we ran out of water in our camelbaks. Not until two thirds of the way down Orderville, which would then link up shortly with the lower Narrows leading us back to the park, did we encounter the much anticipated water. After that it was pure fun. We had about three rappels down waterfalls and several times we jumped into cool refreshing pools. We were told Orderville water levels shouldn't be higher than our waist, but we found places with bottoms we couldn't touch with our feet. As the sun disappeared behind the steep canyon walls we finally came across the Narrows. Good news and bad news. Bad news, we should have also rented inflatable tubes. The high water level and treacherous current turned a 6 hour hike into an 8 hour ordeal as we had to cross the river multiple times or generally wade. Finally we reached the park entry, exhaused and wet, we piled onto a bus to find rest and prepare ourselves for the next day.

crag log: seneca

After barely hopping off the plane from Austin Thursday night, I stuffed my backpack full of camping goods to climb Seneca. We took off Friday afternoon and arrived at Princess Snowbird campground around 10 PM. With an early start on Saturday, my partner assured me that no matter what I was going to summit Seneca. We started with three pitches on Ecstacy (5.7) Saturday morning, had no problems on the first and second pitch but found the crux decidedly over-hangy. We traversed over for my climbing buddy to lead a three pitch slimy crack, Marshall's Madness (5.9) while I belayed and watched the double ropes dance in the fierce wind. Afterwards, we made our way up Banana (5.6), and made the final two pitch push to the summit on Gunsight (pic below--5.3). With the insane wind trying to suck us off the crag the nerve factor made it feel like an '8. After summiting we enjoyed a beautiful view of the valleys on either side. We took the Stairmaster down to the base of Seneca, which unfortunatley made my already sprained right foot tender for the next morning. Sunday we did the first two pitches of Skyline Traverse (5.3) which was oodles of fun, I was supposed to lead and plug in my shiny new pro but with the ankle I was discomforted. Sunday afternoon made it back to D.C., unpacked the backpack and started throwing my climbing clothes in the laundry . . . .

day three

You know I'm going to miss Austin. I've had an awesome time. When I said goodbye to my travel companion/colleague this afternoon, I admit I was a bit sad, thinking well there goes company. But I had climbing to look forward to. Originally I booked a guide through Aspire Adventures, but due to schedule changes I had to make last second alternative arrangements and was iffy about the whole thing anyway (you know strangers, sprained ankles, etc.). But the whole experience exceeded my expectations. It just reaffirmed in general rockclimbers are super cool warm friendly down-to-earth people (despite the vertical acrobatics we like to display while scaling impossibly sheer-looking cliffs). Through a local of a friend of a friend, I was hooked up with several UT Austin rockclimbers and we headed to Greenbelt. Being guys they were intent on pushing their limits and for a warm-up linked up a couple 5.9's. Even though I have never even cleaned a 5.9 much less completed one, they were super encouraging and the limestone was great. The downside, the mosquitos loved me and I forgot only 99 % DEET works in woodsy areas. Afterwards, in repayment to my new friends and their beta with a round of drinks, I was treated to some great Mexican, Polvo's. Awesome.

Last night I had barbeque at Stubb's, but I am tempted to say I've had better BBQ in D.C., the hightlight of the night was a seeing a rock-bluesy band at Nuno's on 6th St. who polished off their set with one of the most awesome rendition of Jimi Hendrix's Voodoo Child. Hell yeah, I'm down with the blue dot in the red state where bumper stickers commonly say, "Keep Austin Weird."

austin, texas

Austin is awesome. When people ask if I would consider relocating, I have to be honest, I would be hard pressed to move away from D.C. where my heart is, namely my family and friends. BUT, I would retire in Austin. It's an awesome little city and seems very un-Texas to those of us who's impressions of the independant republic are formed by the left-wing media. First, people are super friendly. The local airport has only local Austin eateries, like Amy's ice-cream, and the local BBQ joint. One is hard pressed to find bad food in Austin, we had amazing Tex-mex at Z'Tejas Grill. Also Austin well-deserves its reputation for live music. Monday night driving through downtown, there were at least three venues blaring live music into the street. We stopped by the Elephant Room, a long basement smoke-free bar featuring live music 365 days of the year. It wasn't the honky tonk jazz or blues one necessarily associates with Austin, but more the acoustic funky rock jazz. Not bad for a Monday night. Interestingly enough, (as an aside) there are men behind me speaking in Texas southern drawl spewing expetives about the current administration, its foreign policy, and the Texas National Guard.

signals knob (near Elizabeth's Furnace)

Not on how I sprained my ankle during my two weeks of respite from grad school, but rather the otherwise enjoyable circumstances around it.

since I started it, 'g'

The 'G' (gentrification) word, getting more attention!

Some tidbits, one girl living in the U St. corridor and adapting to the 'life-style' there.

Washington Post article regarding a 12 year old DC resident's thoughts on the issue.

As Maria, Tamika and Monique started thinking about gentrification, they grasped the complexity of the phenomenon. "It's really case by case," Maria said. "It's not always bad and not always good. It really depends on how you look at it."

our lolitas

I saw "Hard Candy." An art house film and not atypical from what I've come to expect from Lion's Gate films. Anyone will tell you pedophilia is horrible and few people care to tackle the dicey issue. But watching this movie made me think of J. Lo's "Enough." Why? Same 'big white elephant' issue put into a movie but not being necessarily true to the real conundrums of the issue. Mainly, dealing with human beings who are more complex than the caricatures of the monstrosities they represent. "Enough" is mainly about a battered wife and her abusive husband, and "Hard Candy" is about a pedophile and an extremely vengeful righteous teenager. There were parts of the movie where I wanted the pedophile to get away from the teenager who literally tortured him (Abu Ghurayb style). Hey maybe it is just me, but a bonus for the movie for making me realize I'm not into the whole eye for an eye thing.

manipulated

We all manipulate: our friends, family, bosses, co-workers, etc. Of course its a rather dark way of looking at human relationships and I agree with some people who are fans of "The Art of Seduction," a heartless book on how to exploit others to one's advantage, probably contains a useful study on the modus operandi for some human vampires. I honestly haven't the heart to read the book, but some have already enlightened me with readings from its passages.

Despite all the things I whine and moan about, I am an optimist. There's a part of me that believes in the goodness of human beings, and is always hopeful I'm seeing the best of people. So when I think someone is playing games with me, and puts on a 'good' face, and then I suspect I've been had, I am horribly disappointed and go hard on myself for falling for it. Seems I'm a rarity when it comes to believing in the goodness of humankind, most people I've had this discussion with are pessimistic and have the belief that we are all sinners and need to be saved or forgiven. I know being an 'optimist' about humans and the intentions behind our behavior probably makes me pretty susceptible to manipulation. I usually trust the people I care about and who I believe care about me will not exploit my optimism ... yes it makes me more open to manipulation ... but when I realize what's going on .... well ...

dreamz

You ever found yourself unable to wake out of a dream? This morning it happened, probably because I took Benadryl. Not that I want to turn this into a journal of my nocturnal subconscious visions, but in the dream I was supposed to go to a conference for work, specifically to Khartoum in The Sudan, and a second week in Greece. My flight was supposed to leave Saturday, but I only make it to the check-in counter 5 minutes before and they don't allow me to pass. I buy another ticket for Sunday, and for some reason I forget I'm supposed to be at the airport at 3 PM but don't realize this until 5 PM.

On Monday I go to work and try to find my supervisors to ask if its too late for me or if I should go. In my hurry, I'm feeling out of it, and park my car in the handicapped space in the garage (two places I'm definitely not supposed to park). My boss tells me to not worry about it anymore and then I find out my car has been towed.

I couldn't wake out of this dream until 10 AM even though I went to bed at midnight. A towed car and two missed flights to destinations I've never been before. Odd.

moratorium

I propose a ban on the use of the word 'gentrification' when describing the displacement of D.C. residents by upper-middle class professionals in certain neighborhoods. Gentrification makes me think of 'landed' gentry ... like before women's and black suffrage, in the initial years of American democracy where only the 'landed gentry' could elect the leaders of our great country. It smacks of elitism, oversimplification of the problem, patronization, and for some reason interjects horrible memories of the L.A. riots inspired by the beating of Rodney King. People who use the word gentrification seem to think of themselves as 'gentry,' and I despise it because it accredits someone who is allegedly well educated some kind of superiority over another human being. So I guess all that education couldn't lead the DC 'gentry' to think critically of how all the resume bullets have inflated themselves to what they despised in Virginia and Maryland (namely self-segregation and homogeneity) and inspired them to move into the real, in-your-face, multi-ethnic, multi-age, myriad of experience, uber-diversified community we know as D.C.

old convention center

DCist beat me to it. Sunday walking home from Chinatown without a thought to how I was going getting into my apartment without keys, I was snapping crappy mobile pix of the new artsy walk way. Too bad my t-mobile pictures subscription expired and I can't send them to myself anymore.

compulsive disorders

I think I'm getting addicted to rockclimbing. Like I CAN'T WAIT TO GET OUTSIDE and climb. Work, school, and even social events like parties and keeping up with friends over dinner have become a hindrance and nuisance to my climbing schedule. Last year I started out by promising myself at least a few hours of climbing each week. Most of the time I ended up climbing one day during the weekend and one night after work during the peak season. This year I seem to have met some hard-core climbers who are spreading their infection to me. Already I've devoted at least one 1/2 a weekend day to climb. I'm already trying to put in as much after work climbing and think getting into work at 5 AM to jet at 1:30 PM is not a bad idea if I can get some rock under my skin!

I'm hoping part of this is an effort to make sure I'm well prepared, mentally and physically to meet the rigors of climbing the highest mountain in the lower 48 states come July. Mt. Whitney will decide whether I pursue moutaineering.

# 9: Housewarming

Delightful. I have to exercise my creative brain muscles since all I've been writing are dry term papers and products for work. But yes, DC film fest's closing feature, "Housewarming," was just excellent and wonderful, a perfect note to end the District's cinematic annual event. I would maybe write why I think you ought to see it, however I'll leave you with the dedication from the lead actress, 'to the immigrants who enrich our lives ...'

I'm not an immigrant but my parents are and with all the protests, strikes, and political harbingering in DC about immigration laws, the film is very timely. I look around my apartment, and there is not a lot of Bengali cultural influence I see. Instead there's a replica of a Hummingbird guitar hung on my wall, a few Rajput art prints, Korean folk art prints, a touch of Picasso and Van Gogh, and my own eclectic penchant for zebra stripes, beige microfiber upholstery, and metal and glass touches. Yes, multi-culturalism has enriched me as the daughter of immigrants, and I continue to look forward to their contributions. Right now, the protests remind me and revitalize the notions on which this country was built on, namely our founding fathers who saw these lands as sanctuary from persecution and the adventure of economic opportunity.

# 8: Antarmahal

Shoddy effort from filmmaker Rituparno Ghosh. The time period, acting, characters and behaviors were pretty far removed from letting anyone in the audience identify with such. Most of the time I was trying to figure out why this movie was made? And I was rather disappointed since I thought Ghosh's "Chockher Bali," was one of the most feeling movies made.

# 7: In Bed

Pretty darn good acting and a nice character piece. Also thankfully does not delude anyone with the happy ending a casual sexual encounter can lead to anything more. Or will just lead to more painful emotional sharing and still back to square 0. There were some cheesy parts but it was nice the director showed that, because frankly cheesy things happen when baring parts of bodies to lovers. I was amazed he could unravel such a complex story all stemming from a motel room and a few hours spent between two strangers who's only respite from each other is the bathroom.

# 6: 3 Needles

Was a movie on how AIDS/HIV manifests in three very different areas of the globe. It stars seasoned movie actors like Lucy Liu, Sandra Oh, and Chloe Sevigny. Despite the great cinematography and the intriguing stories the movie is difficult to digest. The director Thom Fitzgerald was present and when the rolling credits were finished, movie goers seemed to be slightly stunned and waited a few seconds before applauding.

Yeah, it was one of those movies. Fitzgerald explained to the theater he wanted to show how economics was partly responsible for driving the HIV/AIDS epidemic. Perhaps one of the biggest problems was his reliance on a narrator who added no real context to the story. Fitzgerald should have explained the circumstances of the Chinese blood donation programs (you know a short rolling paragraph would've helped or something), French Canadian insurance policies, and despite his best told story being South Africa, it would have been helpful to know took place in South Africa. Otherwise we could have taken it for any other African country rather than the fairly modernized developed country. Already a long film, there could have been less narration and extraneous story-telling and more context to effectively deliver Fitzgerald's message.

# 5: Passion

I am still digesting this movie. I wasn't sure of where it took place, (Baghdad, Cairo?) until I just checked the description: Aleppo, Syria. I admit I've been feeling out of it and with a swollen left ankle (from my first bug bite of the season no less) triggering hamstring spasms, a gashed right arm, possible chipped jaw, bum still hurting from horse injuries, and stressing about finals this movie made me stop thinking of my own relative misery to think about well ... how important is freedom and modernity? How important is tradition? How much does democracy and freedom really benefit people when under the yoke and unswayable powers of their families and social networks? It's not the Constitution that gurantees freedom, but is it our detachment and ability to protect ourselves from those we love the ultimate armor? Justice is retrospect and always late.

I know odd questions to ponder, but if you see this movie maybe you'll get a gist of what I mean.

# 4: The Underground Game

Was a really good movie. I am intrigued by the director Roberto Gervitz and want to see more of his films. As one friend pointed out, initially the characters revealed nothing redeeming, admirable, or even relational to most people. Mid-way through you could start feeling for the sap who was getting played by a high-class hooker, the blind-woman who seemed to be a know-it-all, and the tattoo artist with an autistic daughter. Although the characters were unique, their pain was physically magnified (not spoiling it for you) through some brutal scenes. Also the plot wasn't what I would call terribly unique, somewhere along the lines of classics like "Breakfast at Tiffany's" or "Pretty Woman" come to mind. I probably would have like it more had it a more tragic ending ... (I am a fan of love stories with tragic endings coupled with bittersweet hope like "Out of Sight," "Kama Sutra: A Tale of Love," "Troy," and although debatable, "Star Wars: Episode III").

# 3: Hip Hop Colony

Was not a documentary I expected. Funny thing is my friend and I were probably one of 15 people in the theater, unusual for a DC film fest screening. We made instant buddies with some other hip-hop aficionados who were not the typical tweed-blazer adorned DC film-fest goer.

Long for a documentary, the movie was refreshing in the way it was framed. First starting off with an introduction to Africa and Kenya by a British narrator, I was annoyed (I'm annoyed by most narrators if you can't tell, however, George of the Jungle gets props for having the best use of a humorous narrator) because I thought it was rather 'colonial' to have a white-sounding Brit narrate the advent of hip-hop in Kenya, a musical form imported from the United States. However, as the director showed Kenyans making hip-hop their own, transforming it into 'genge,' we heard less of the narrator and more from the seemingly tight knit family-like community of Kenyan artists.

When I think hip-hop, I'm used to thinking about American hip-hop where wealth is prominently displayed, women are sub-human objects, and lyrics glorify gangster life-styles. Hip Hop Colony showed how Kenyan genge demonstrated none of these characteristics, rather the music was about identity in Kenya and adjusting to the world changing around them.

the wash out

I lead my first climb today!!!!!!!!!!! Wooooooohhhhhooooooooooooooooo!

I'm super psyched only because I always thought you had to be a really awesome climber to lead(which I'm not). Admittedly it was a beginner route I lead (5.4), however I seconded a 5.8 and then flailed on another 5.8 (and almost broke my forearm--it's kind of gross, I did sort of a vertical arm bar that pinched my flesh to the bone, surprisingly no skin broke) trying to go over a wet drippy roof.

We were supposed to go to Seneca this weekend but it was a total wash out. For a bit we were climbing in the rain this morning, but around noon, the sun peeked out. Even though it was foggy and visibility was non-existant, the climbing areas on Sugar Loaf were beautiful; one is called 'Middle Earth' and in that mist, you could sincerely believe you were Frodo's companion. I know I'm a cheeseball LOTR geek.

Crossing the Bridge: The Sweet Sound of Istanbul

Review Deux: Tonight my mom and I went to see a documentary about the music scene in Istanbul. Here are my mom's observations: she basically didn't like it very much, although it was a survey about music in Istanbul, it didn't go into depth on any of the music styles it presented, and the production of movie seemed rather haphazard.

Initially I was annoyed by the German narrator who kept talking about himself traveling in Turkey, impatient to actually hear and see the music of Istanbul. First we were presented with Turkish grunge, then rap, then regional differences such as Romani and Kurdish music. Finally he went back to the classics. As endearing a social cultural icon such as Sezen Aksu can be singing her nostalgic songs, the effect is ruined by close-ups of bad plastic surgery (am I shallow for saying this?).

I admit the movie made me yearn to visit Turkey and lose myself in Istanbul; much the same way Lost in Translation made me feel about Tokyo. I also appreciate the nod and lengthy section given to street buskers ... I wish DC had more. It's great to be greeted by the soothing sounds of a busking electric guitar or saxophone, amplified perfectly by Metro station's acoustics, giving my deprived-of-jam brain a little candy in between work where its over-pressed and school where I attempt to muster a glimmer of intellect. Also don't be fooled by the movie's poster, there is no belly dancer (or dancing) with a guitar slung along her torso.

on buildings

When I put the deposit down for my condo, I didn't realize that in the same block were two rehabilitation/homeless shelters. Yesterday I just found out that my building was built over a funeral home! Bad ju-ju!

Otherwise I've noticed a couple articles in WaPo concerning DC buildings. I don't know what the beef is, they are ugly. I wish they would instead stick to preserving buildings, that are well at least aesthetically pleasing to the eye, like this one even though I know its not under threat:

film fest dc, Three Times

So one of my favorite film festivals kicked off last night. Some buddies and I went to see "Three Times," a Taiwanese about the ever changing fashions of time yet never changing underlying emotions concerning love. I think I have eight more films to see in this whole festival (I was not kidding when I said was crazy about the DC international film fest). So far two films I badly wanted to see on Saturday are already sold out: Water and Iraq in Fragments.

I'll offer a short review of Three Times, it's a slow film. I think you really have to appreciate cinematography or be a film student to appreciate this movie. I am neither, and I found I enjoyed some of the 'times'/chapters more than others. Perhaps more resonating with the younger crowd is the story of the lovers in Taipei in 2005. The first story takes place in 1966 and its just adorable. The mid-movie story taking place in 1911 was harder to get into, and I confess my film companions slept through that one. I'm not familiar with the director or his work, and this was supposed to be his most seductive film, I admit the acting and the beautiful Shu Qi were definitely high points.

4 or against rug rats

Courtesy of a Salon article (my response in pink):

10 reasons you would like/not like to have a kid. Go.

10. Nobody under the age of 10 will ever throw up on me. (I've had an elderly guy dying from a heart attack PROJECTILE VOMIT on me while I was performing CPR on him ... don't think that's much of a concern for me ... urine and feces, that's another issue)
9. When I have bags under my eyes they are the result of staying out too late at a pub with friends. (very temporal though)
8. I don't have to worry about finding "the best" schools.
7. Taking sick time/vacation when I want to instead of when the daycare provider does. (We're going to the goddamn zoo or the climbing wall, my kids will be ass-kicking rockclimbers)
6. Avoiding the obligation to find a kid-friendly event, location, dvd etc. for my leisure time. (but I always liked Disney)
5. A sense that I'm fulfilling my obligations to the next generation by leaving a smaller eco-footprint (i.e. fewer consumers). (That was my moral argument in my undergrad Theories in American Democracy class)
4. Fewer financial worries about my current and future life.
3. No risk of ruining someone's psyche. (Fear I have already done that to my siblings)
2. Not having to build a tolerance for screaming babies or children, or equally exasperating loud activities. I think some of my earliest child-free thoughts were due to my intolerance for noise. (Geez, teaching Tae Kwon Do has already built that up)
1. Not having to spend my time thinking and worrying about what will be good for the kid (child-rearing techniques, health, neighborhood, etc.).
I'm sure there are many more reasons, what are yours? And those on the "childed" side, what are the benefits you think I should consider?

OK, here's the first 10 that come to mind, mundane and profound all jumbled together:
1. Endless entertainment. I laugh far more often than I did before I had kids. They are damned funny people.
2. Get to learn about one of my favorite subjects, how humans learn, firsthand.
3. Get to explore another favorite interest, language acquisition, firsthand.
4. Have a reason to go to all the fun places you might not go without a child like kiddie amusement parks and museums.
5. The social aspects of parenting in this community -- lots of interaction with similar families and lots of stuff to do, and I feel connected with the place and schools and institutions more than I probably would have forced myself to do without the kids.
6. What the hell, I'll say it -- looking at them. I think my kids are beautiful and I sometimes can't believe I had anything to do with creating them. (I am somewhat afraid of giving birth to ugly children)
7. Endorphins -- having a young child is kind of like the endorphin equivalent of falling in love, constantly. I'm constantly being reminded with a sort of emotional whoomph in my chest how much I adore them.
8. Giving birth. I'm very glad that I got to experience the amazing rush of pregnancy and childbirth. (I never liked getting my period, I admit having a fear of giving birth)
9. The satisfaction of working at something that is difficult but worth doing well.
10. Making my husband a father. It's amazing to see him with them and wonderful to partner with him in this. We were a great couple, and I feared losing that, but I love us as parents too. It does take a lot more work sometimes, but difficult does not necessarily = bad.
11. Laughing toddler crawling into bed in the morning. It just does not get better than that.

its an election year

For DC Mayor. I'm not sure who the other candidates are but for some reason I'm thinking of this when I read In Shaw: Pews vs. Barstools. I've marginally heard of the debate regarding development along the 9th Street corridor, which I am for. Right now the street is rows of dilapidated homes, boarded up windows, steel barred no-entry signs, and generally a depressing area. With the convention center attracting restaurants in its southern front, its time to work on the northern eastern and western sides.

One woman complains about day care being across from a bar. I ask, why do you have your kids in day care after 6 PM?

"There's nothing new about fights over the location of a bar, gay or otherwise. It happens all the time. But the battle over Be Bar is unfolding in the midst of a wave of gentrification, where race, class and now sexual orientation get thrown into an already simmering pot."

retrospect

I sometimes go back and read what I wrote in prior times, so here was a list I made about this time of year last year, and here's what's changed:

things i've never done (and may never do)
1. Smoked a cigarette
2. Cheated on someone
3. Scuba dived
4. Smoked marijuana
3. Killed someone
4. Went Caving
5. Taken any illegal drug that had no age restrictions
6. Driven a motorcycle
7. Swam a lap
8. Been to the Southern Hemisphere
9. Played drums
10. Left the DC metro area for another place to live
11. Travelled 4 times to the UK and went to Scotland or Ireland
12. Skied a Black Diamond
13. Pulled off a successful turning hook kick in a taekwondo tournament
14. Serenaded a man
15. Owned a dog
16. not talked to my mom for a week
17. talked to my dad continuously for a week
18. gotten married
19. had kids
20. owned a sports car
21. Been to Amsterdam, Luxembourg, or Monaco
22. acted in a widely distributed film23. hang-glided
24. landed a single propeller engine airplane
25. been to the Middle East for more than 18 hours
26. gotten into a street fight (does this count?)
27. stood up a date
28. faked liking a boy
29. pledged a sorority
30. saw the 'drag races' in Dupont
31. driven a car on a race track
32. Sailed a boat on my own
33. ice skated without falling
34. gone to the Phillips collection
35. Been to Washington state
36. painted a room all by myself
37. held a spider
38. been to Eastern Europe
39. defended a dissertation
40. Looked out the telescopes on O'Hill
41. Had surgery
42. completed climbing Romeo's Ladder
43. rafted the Gauley River
44. fallen for a South Asian man
45. not had a boyfriend who wasn't some part Anglo-Saxon
46. voted Republican
47. Voted before 2004
48. gone to Fur
49. tolerated cigarette smoking very well
50. played foosball with any skill
51. gotten into the top four in the National Taekwondo Championship

Fukuyama is damn right

He makes the point that suddenly no high-powered politician in Washington wants to make. Everyone seems afraid to say they were wrong and continue sticking to convictions proven false. For admitting he's a human and made judgments he backed 100% previously, Fukuyama has shed his neo-con skin.

"The logic of my prewar shift on invading Iraq has now been doubly confirmed. I believe that the neoconservative movement, with which I was associated, has become indelibly associated with a failed policy, and that unilateralism and coercive regime change cannot be the basis for an effective American foreign policy. I changed my mind as part of a necessary adjustment to reality.

What has infuriated many people is President Bush's unwillingness to admit that he made any mistakes whatsoever in the whole Iraq adventure. On the other hand, critics who assert that they knew with certainty before the war that it would be a disaster are, for the most part, speaking with a retrospective wisdom to which they are not entitled.

Many people have noted the ever-increasing polarization of American politics, reflected in news channels and talk shows that cater to narrowly ideological audiences, and in a House of Representatives that has redistricted itself into homogeneous constituencies in which few members have to appeal to voters with diverse opinions. This polarization has been vastly amplified by Iraq: Much of the left now considers the war not a tragic policy mistake but a deliberate criminal conspiracy, and the right attacks the patriotism of those who question the war.

This kind of polarization affects a range of other complex issues as well: You can't be a good Republican if you think there may be something to global warming, or a good Democrat if you support school choice or private Social Security accounts. Political debate has become a spectator sport in which people root for their team and cheer when it scores points, without asking whether they chose the right side. Instead of trying to defend sharply polarized positions taken more than three years ago, it would be far better if people could actually take aboard new information and think about how their earlier commitments, honestly undertaken, actually jibe with reality — even if this does on occasion require changing your mind."

Man, all this shit with the immigration bill and Democrats backing so hard against modifications (not to mentioned the death of the Dubai World Ports deal in the U.S.) makes me feel very un-blue. Go green! I wonder if the Dems know they are reacting to a hard-line administration pulled further right than the Republican party, and this sudden protectionism is going bury them come the next election (whoa I'm making a prediction here?). Am I anti-American for suddenly advocating the shelving of the electoral college system and encouraging more diverse political parties who actually speak to issues these days?

cowgirl on the beach

cowgirl on the beach
Originally uploaded by ScelestiX.

So here's the story. I feel like I've been raped by a horse's saddle, because literally, that's what happened when my intrepid friend you see I'm riding, decided to take off in a trot and LEAP over a one foot high barrier. I had no idea what pain and humiliation was in store for me once she landed. I had bounced part way out of my saddle with my right leg over her neck, my left still stuck in the stirrups, and the most uncomfortable parts of the saddle in my delicate regions. After grabbing her neck and realizing I had no control of her, I slid down and rolled away from what I hoped would not be a horse having a tantrum wielding angry hooves.

I'm okay, my ego and flesh is just a bit bruised and I have an even greater respect for horses. Also I think the next time I try to be adventurous during vacation, I should maybe have equestrian lessons prior to booking my next horse trail trip.

packs of 10 feet tall people

Maybe you're looking for a new way to explore D.C. Or perhaps like myself you've gawked at the packs of people running around on segways. I found the source of the mystery: Look between 14th and 13th on I St. Yes, it's a Segway tour company.

last sunday

I screwed up Daylight savings time. A friend I was meeting to climb with at 7 AM called at the time saying she was going to be there five minutes late. I was still in bed. I ran out the door in 10 minutes knowing I still had a 1/2 hour drive before hitting Great Falls. Unfortunately I ran over a curb with my rear right tire. Partly down GW Parkway, my car started shuddering like there was a helicopter trying to land on its roof. I pulled over to an overlook and saw I had a thoroughly shredded and blown rear right tire. I pulled out the jack and lifted the car, but could not for the life of me get the lugs off. A couple strangers offered to help and I asked the last guy to help pull of the lugs and he walked me through changing the tire. I made it Great Falls by 8:30, did Splinters clean for the first time :) although only using the left approach, not straight up. I also climbed Lost Arrow (5.10+). Yeah, not free climb, but I learned to climb via its original method, aid climb. Afterwards I treated my car to some new tires and windshield wipers, my tummy to some Moby Dick's, and a nice nap once I got home.

bermuda

Today's my last day here, I didn't spend nearly enough time at the beach, so really, my bikini tan-lines are not as contrast-y as they were before ... hah, I didn't really tan in South Africa either. I came here for a lovely intimate wedding and it was wonderful. The entire guest list numbered shy of 40 people so every guest got to know each other and we all had fun hitting the clubs on Front Street in Hamilton, hanging out at the beach, shopping, and sightseeing.

Right now my right jaw is pretty sore. It's a good thing this is the jaw that never fully recovered feeling from a wisdom tooth extraction gone awry (blood spurting, hammers, and drilling to retrieve a way tooth) three years ago. That story to come with pictures.

Even though there were plenty of people here, for the most part I traveled by myself. Of course I've mentioned the positives: doing what I want to do on my own time, not worried about compromising or being accountable to someone else, and becoming more self-reliant and confident about traveling alone. It also opens up meeting locals and other people you may not normally interact with if you were traveling with someone else. Although I admit, traveling with someone else has positives, particularly if my companion has similar interests (like my sister or a few other friends I've traveled with). This time around, I think particularly in the beach-y tropical island type of vacations, its nice to have a buddy. Particularly since it seems whenever I went to the beach, I was by myself unless I was meeting someone else.

Oh and by the way Bermuda is a genuine banana republic. I hit downtown Hamilton on Thursday and saw accountants and insurers walking around in full-fledged business suits. I saw brand names like Deloitte and PriceWaterhouseCoopers on corner streets. I was really amazed. Apparently Bermuda's a good place for off-shore banking, insurance firms, of course hospitality, and there is a medical facility. There are no fast-food places or chain restaurants. No Day's Inns or cheap motel constructs. It's all vacation villas, homes and neighborhoods, or compound-like resorts/clubs/and golf courses. Stunning beaches though.

departures II

Should be dated 5 April 06--When I wrote this on airplane flying from IAD to BOS:

This morning could have been a shaky 35 mm of what happens when I leave with an aching heart. Trolling my over-expensive on-a-whim bought-in-Heathrow carry-on Samsonite, my black work bag, and two plastic shopping bags; one with half frozen de-stemmed strawberries, mom's dried lime beef curry and stir-fried baby Asian eggplant over brown rice, an empty Nalgene, a bruised pink lady apple, and a freckled banana; the other bag with squeaky square-toed black pumps and sandals bought after Long Island sound left me shoeless on a red-drunk wine summer day on a rocky beach.

Caption me down an empty DC neighborhood street littered with the debris from spring tree blossoms, wearing a crisp French blue shirt, stretch charcoal pencil skirt, and Tevas-my favorite vehicle of escape. Snapshot to the work lunch hour confessing misty-eyed to a dear friend and colleague, two hours later picking my mom up near Union Station.

Now going up the aesthetically-pleasing cold glass and steel rising escalator corridors of Dulles, staring at aluminum tile, with hot tears falling on my overly expensive Samsonite. The cavern of halogen illuminated escalators echoing the vast crackening of my heart.

I'm going to the beach, but my mind can only think how cold 67 degrees can really be.

My friends console me and tell me I'm brave, I think to myself, 'I had to do it,' no choice or I'll always wonder. The answers I got did not impart the relief of un-weighted insecurity and indecision, but instead the aching of a heart-breaking.

ammunition

Even though it comes from one of my least favorite sources I knew there was a reason Maryland drivers ruined the road experience along the entire mid-Atlantic. I'm not prejudiced against Marylanders just because I'm a Virginia-born, raised, schooled girl ... which I always will be, despite adopting DC residency but here it is, as DCist posts:

The debate now seems to be settled -- Maryland has the worst drivers out there. According to the Washington Times, last month alone Marylanders were responsible for 64 percent of the traffic violations caught on the District's traffic cameras, while D.C. residents accounted for 20 percent, Virginia 9 percent and all other states 7 percent. Of course, we are just kidding that this number may say something about Maryland's drivers. Some of them seem to say exactly the opposite, in fact, claiming that they are being unfairly targeted. A spokesperson for AAA said this of the news
-- "When 65 percent of those citations are from a particular jurisdiction, it creates in the public mind the notion of a carefully crafted commuter tax. Marylanders are at the mercy of the city." Why yes, we here in the District are crafty enough to come up with a plan this ingenious.

2006: The Year of

Adventure, yeah that's what I've decided! I mean it has to be right? Within the first week of the new year I did my first trad climb (following) on Table Mountain, South Africa's (and possible the entire African continent's) distinguished climbing spot. So that means I'm packing my vacations with adventure in mind. Thus the training has began.

The new Earthtreks in Rockville was where I first started because of the blasted cold conditions. Pretty cool brand-spankin' new gym. Has a more extensive bouldering cave than the older gyms in the area (actually I'm only comparing it to Alexandria SportRock), really tall climbs, most routes longer than what you find in Great Falls and Carderock, and lots of challenging routes. At first I thought they graded their routes to hard but hah, that could've been just me out of shape.

A couple weekends ago when it wasn't so chilly we did our first outdoor climb of the season in Seculsion and Romeo. It was a great day for all of us, we ambitiously started out saying we were going to warm up on the 5.7's and make the most of the availability in the park. In reality, our winter-ed arms and shoulders could only handle three routes: Snowflake (5.6), Great Beginnings (5.7) and Romeo's Ladder (5.8). After that we've been tackling overhangs and roofs ... we should be in prime shape to tackle everyone's nemesis from last summer: Cornice in Great Falls.

Yeah, so you thought this was going to be a great post, but really it was just my climbing log. Not so afraid of the bouldering cave anymore and starting to work out roof/overhang problems on 5.8's at the gym.

Hopefully this will prepare me for July.

next time on your first worst date

Think of me. I went out with a dreamy guy. Human rights and saving refugees from HIV/AIDs kind of ambitions, Master's in something, settled in the career, resume chock full of betterment of humanity-type of activities. Wine connoisseur, jazz-aficionado, city-life lover, jacked good looking blue eyed fella.

Date: sumptuous dinner chasing raw jalapenos sprinkled with crushed pepper down with infused vodkas, along with the two margaritas, and then two Haitian rums, a clear brandy, and Delirium Tremens late (I wasn't even trying to keep up) ... his German blood started failing him.

We were daring each other at the bar to create mischief on our unwary nearby patrons (although I think the bartenders suspected), and then we started to test each other's reflexes. Stepping outside the bar with many Friday night revelers on the well-lit street turned-party before us, I threw a playful kick to test his reflexes. Before I realized, his shadow rushed at me from the corner of my eye, and I was flat on my back on a sidewalk on 8th St.

The boy had tackled me.

"Whoa!!! Whoa! What the???!!!" Were the exclamations I heard vaguely through my alcohol fogged ears. He was laughing, I laughed along, not drunk enough to hide my nervousness or how freaked out I really was. He helped me up. I pretended to brush myself off for the next three blocks.

"So what do you want to do next?" he asked laughing not looking me in the eye.

"I think the metro's about to close. Ciao!"

what happens when

"n" drinks 1/2 a bottle of Pinot Noir. My family thinks I'm an old maid at the tender age of '25.' See my aunts were married off fresh out of college, and old from them was 23. I've finally relented to their attempts to find me the perfect husband. I met one alleged 'perfect' husband-ish. But here I have a dirty confession to make. I'm not attracted to my kind ... that is South Asian men. Yes, on occasion I have fallen for one or two, but they were all the clubbing playa types.

Bastards.

I've been spoiled. I'm fortunate enough to know what it feels like to be head over heels in-love/crazy about someone ... I know what it feels like to have my world revolve around them and try to resist it and try to keep some semblance of my personal identity ... I know what it feels like to think of them as the only member of the opposite sex on the planet and refer to them privately in my head as 'husband.' So when I meet an auntie 'setup' and I don't feel like I've been rolled over by a tsunami in the end, it fails to mean anything. Wipe the slate clean. And I'm in no hurry even though all my blood relations seem concerned about my marriage bed.

Vendetta

Don't take it politically as many critics would have you feel.

"V" is based off a comic book, and thus should still be treated as one of many movies in the genre like 'Spiderman' or 'Dare Devil.' Do not try to compare it to the current administration. This movie is assuming that for the next 20 years the U.S. ceases to have elections and continues on an imperialist path. This is not that deep a movie.

Did I mention it's pro-terrorism? Enjoy it folks. It's still pretty awesome.

march steaks

I'm fulfilling my one post a month. Or several posts in a 12 hour period for the month.

Steaks are awesome. This evening I had the luxury of blowing over $300 on a dinner for two at Charlie Palmer's. I ordered a steak that was approximately $6 a bite, Waguyi sirloin, good, but I trimmed about $10 worth of fat off it. The Pinot with the dinner was fantastic. The desserts decadent (chocolate is the way to go here). The service just right, attentive without making you feel embarrassed about the conversation you were carrying on interrupted (hah maybe that's just me). Yummy oysters, not too briny. Yeah, if you want to feel the full-fledge D.C. power towering over and around you, this is the place, the sort of place where I felt okay knowing my DC & Federal tax return made into my bank account and I was getting paid tomorrow so I could pull out the debit card instead of embarrassing myself by pulling out my non-Platinum American Express. Yeah, that's the kind of place Charlie Palmer's is. If you've got a snooty Beverly Hills high up on their horse kind of relative, this is the place to take 'em to make 'em feel small (not that I have those relatives).